In the Bathtub

The skies are a glowing amethyst on this misty May night; the bright moonlight cast through the foggy horizon, as if to remind us that we should never be without its gentle caress.  What color did you imagine the moon to be?  She means for us to live as true as the blushing tide.

The moonlight is charming on this easterly evening, calling out to me in its sultry, decadent prose.  On such a night, your beautiful eyes haunt me from the depths, reaching for me, as if to set my heart ablaze.  She wanted me to speak, and she knew my words came from unusual places, and at unusual times.  I suppose this made it all the more exciting. What the crescent spirit may not have known, is that we could hear her most clearly when she wasn't speaking to us.  And this urged me to wonder whether she heard us most clearly in things unspoken.  This was all but certain to be the case, as I knew my most faithful convictions were left unspoken, much like yours.

The tide carried us to unknown lands, where we were whole, as one, in the moon's somniferous caress.  With the waves beneath us, we knew we needn't give thought to tomorrow, because all things land in their right places in due time, washed to the shore by the soft, faithful tide of life.   Here, with the sea rushing over me, my spirit is at rest, my heart is at ease.  I feel your graceful warmth from head to toe, in a tingling that raises the hairs on my arms.  It travels over the land like a will-o-wisp, reaching me from inside space to tend to the somber breeze in our hearts; I hold onto you and I know I can't be far, because all things meet here.  Still, I could feel the celestial light, as I was pulled under by the immense tide.

The timbre of my fiery soul keeps me in place, where all things seem to be in flux.  Where the tyrant seas seem to spin and stir in an errant dance, and calamity appears to give no refrain, your faithful heart sets me in place.  It is here where I learned to burn like a lotus; here, in the depths that you command.

Certainly you knew this about yourself, or perhaps no one came to remind you of it.  The fateful crossroads of life come to greet us under the most peculiar circumstances, grappling for our hearts until we arrive at who we shall become.  When you didn't know what would become, I knew to remind you; you couldn't have had me any other way, and your heart of hearts knew this to be.  And when they offered up the gilded sacrament, I knew to remind you of your sign.  When I was off, beside myself, you only meant to be at ease; and you seemed to be, for the most part, and I admired this so dearly.  You knew I couldn't be anywhere but beside myself; not today, at least.

Sometimes I'd awaken with the weight of the world bearing down on my chest.  Flares would sparkle from above, with jets cascading across the night sky at the speed of sound in a tremendous cloud.  Something I learned about myself, though, is I never panic.  I could know the heaviest sinking in my heart, my mind beginning to blur, and my legs quivering, but I would never feel the visceral terror of panic.  Nightmares were more like acid trips than terrors for me.  Many people praised me for my analytical and intuitive sense, but I knew this void where other men felt terror was, at least, equivalent in its fortitude.

You always knew where to find me, though.  Sometimes you'd even try to bind me yourself, just to keep my mind from the less noble impressions.  It did work, and I didn't concern myself, because I never knew of shackles that could keep me.  Still, you knew to find me.

But we knew always to give our whole selves for today, lest we find ourselves stranded in the vagrant space of nothingness.  We knew, in each moment, that our hearts must burn brightly, fearlessly, and truly, so that we may find each other in the eternal present.  We would be lost without love, shapeless, as many find themselves in such a dark night of the soul.  Always we would know to shine a light on those close to us, ushering them into the space of the infinite.  We would hold each other more closely than we had ever known before, feeling the swelling warmth of a beloved caress; it is here that we are as one, and it is here that we find everlasting peace for our souls.

None shall perish here, we urged them, but actions do speak louder.

I am grateful for every last day.  To love is the greatest joy in life, to feel a lovingness for all things, great and small; when we love, we feel it pouring out from all places and in each person, our hearts as one; such a communion of the soul is a bleeding warmth that captivates and inspires the beauty in each living thing.  Such a love is the root and foundation of our self-becoming; in love, we are a living testament to all that is good and graceful in this world.

Love is fleeting, if only we chase after it, but love is with us always.  Love shows us to be gentle and present, to open our hearts and show the world who we are, courageously and truly.  In return, love brings us peace and a faithful resting place for our souls, if only we let the loving nature inhabit us.  And I've known such a deep longing to feel accepted for who I am, to love others, to be loved, and to love myself for all that I can be; I'd lost sight of this for so long, but each day I move closer to this breathing peace.  I walk in faith, knowing all who are dear to me will be at my side.